No, actually that's Zack, getting a really pleasant nose-full of bloated, rotting gator. Why did I black his face out, you ask? Acne. No, really just experimenting with my crappy paint program, and you're the guinea pigs. Or is Zack the guinea pig. Or guinea gator. Shit, I don't know how things work anymore.
We saw this guy, looking like I did the night before (passed out on cheap scotch somewhere in Fort Lauderdale), on Alligator Alley on our way to the Skunk Ape Research Center. Don't ask. Because I already explained it to you in the previous post about that freakish cricket we found; I even posted a link to real writing that, like, one person read, and I think it was Zack. Jesus, you people. Pay attention.
So our good buddy, and circus freak amigo, Scarecrow Jenkins, tried to chisel some teeth out with a ball peen hammer and a flathead screwdriver to no avail. I don't know if that's legal or not, but it made for a nice roadside scene for happy families on their way to Orlando. Wouldn't budge. Turns out you have to slice deep into the gums with a knife first and pry them out. If only I'd known that before, and not been overcome with dry heaves at the smell of the great beast. And that stuff don't wash off, I'll tell you. Can you imagine driving with that on your skin in 95 degree Florida humidity for three hours. Me neither. I was sleeping. But there's always next time, and I'm selling necklackes.
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